Emerald Eyes
by quidditch7
Summary: COMPLETE.He knew I understood, and I did too. I understood that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had avenged his family and friends lives. His face that night is still in my head, I know he didn't want to leave me I could see it in his emerald eyes. H


**Emerald Eyes**

**disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, never have- never will.

It's been three years now and there's no way he's coming back. He can't. He killed Voldemort. Voldemort killed him.

"Ginny," I hear my name called from inside the burrow and a smiling bushy haired woman pops her head out the door. "Dinner's ready."  
I push all my thoughts about him out of my mind and make my way indoors from the garden. I kick a gnome out of my way and it squeals before running off under a prickly bush. As I enter the lopsided yet wonderful house I call home, I'm enveloped in the smells of Mum's famous roast and mashed potatoes. I look around the dinner table feeling empty inside; everyone is sitting across from the person that they truly care about. My mum across from my dad, Hermione from Ron, Fred and George across from their present girlfriends. Hermione seemed to notice me glancing from couple to couple because her smile faltered.

"Oh Ginny, come sit by me," Hermione recovered quickly patting a chair next to her. I smiled weakly and sat down beside her. I pick at my roast trying to listen to everyone's conversation and say something witty. I hate it when they worry about me, and if I seem my old confident self they won't worry. I look over at Ron who hasn't said a word the whole meal and I wonder what he could be thinking about. He keeps twitching nervously and I think I even saw his ears turn pink.

"Merlin Ron, what is wrong with you?" I finally ask, wondering if he is choking on something. Everyone looked at Ron as he cleared his throat loudly.

"I er..well...er I guess now is as g-good a time as any Moine," he says hastily.

"What, is everything ok dears...it's not the roast is it? I thought I might have cooked it a fraction too long," said my mum quickly, but then I see dad put a hand over her forearm and motion towards Ron and Hermione. I finally catch on as I see both of them staring at each other happily.

"Ron and I are getting married!" Hermione exclaimed as if she couldn't keep it inside her any longer. Mum bursts out in tears of happiness while both Fred and George pat Ron on the back a little harder than necessary. I think I even saw Fred wink at Ron, what a prat. I lean over and hug Hermione as if my life depends on it.

"Gin..I- can't breath properly," she finally got out. I giggled and let go of her quickly. Then it hit me, a second wave of emotion. They were getting married and I was left alone, I would never feel as happy as they do. My eyes tingled and against my will, I let out a loud sob. The whole table turned to look at me, their eyes wide and startled expressions on their faces. They are probably thinking that I'm having another episode; after all they know I still think of _him_. I'm not normally the person you see crying, and if I'm crying it's usually not because I'm happy.

"I'm s-so sorry, I'm j-just so happy for y-you two," and I got up and ran from the dinner table to my room. I threw myself onto my bed crying into my patched quilt. They must think I'm such a prat, they just told me the happiest news of their lives and all I could think about was him, the boy I should have married.

I pick my head up and look into the mirror over my dresser, my eyes are puffy, my ginger hair askew. I see a picture of him and I on my dresser, the one that I nearly throw away every time I see it. It reminds me of him daily; my most painful yet happy memory. I lower myself off my bed slowly and reach for the photo of him and I. It's a picture of us at Bill and Fleur's wedding. We weren't dating because he didn't want me in danger, but that didn't keep us from having one of the best days of our lives. We are both wearing very formal clothes in the picture. He's wearing bottle green robes that made his eyes look brilliant. I'd never seen them so alive. I'm wearing a pale lavender set of dress robes, a gift from Bill. We look so happy. I'm looking into the camera, my smile so big that it looks as if my face might just split. He's not looking at the camera though; I can see that his emerald green eyes are on me. When we would take pictures he used to say to me "Why would I look at the camera Gin? You are much better looking." and we would laugh. I haven't truly laughed in years, not since he left to go on his adventure to defeat Voldemort. Yes, I can say the dark lord's name now.

I put the picture of him and I back on my oak dresser face down, before lying back down on my soft bed as silent tears still stream down my face. I feel myself drift off to sleep, to dream of nothing else but him. I always dream of him, his dark hair and handsome face. It's always a dream of him somehow coming back to me, that he was never truly dead- he just got lost of course. But every time I wake from my slumber he isn't there, no matter how many stars I wish on.  
I can't stand the fact that I can't touch him, have him hold me in his strong muscular arms and kiss me. Can't he hear me calling for him? Doesn't he know that it's so hard to go on without his presence, yet in memory of him- he's the only reason I do go on at all.

I'll never forget the way my stomach used to jump when I saw him or the silly crush I had on that raven-haired boy for all those years. I'll never forget how great it was when he noticed me for the first time, really noticed me. That was like falling in love again, yes even though that sounds silly, I call what him and I had- love. I feel like I'm losing another part of my love every day that I go on without him. Everyone has missed him (how could they not), but they have had someone to help them move on. He was my someone, and I've been waiting for him to come back for three years. But I know he can not return to me.

I think of him looking at me that night before he, Ron, and Hermione left the burrow. He had taken my small hand in his own larger hand and held it up to his cheek telling me that he was so sorry he could not just throw everything aside for me like a small part of him wanted to. He then told me that he knew I understood, and I did too. I understood that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had avenged his family and friends lives. His face that night is still in my head, I know he didn't want to leave me- I could see it in his emerald eyes. I'll never forget my Harry, how on earth could I?

**A/N:** I'm so sorry I haven't updated my other story in months...It's crazy- I am just having so much trouble writing it. I hope you liked this one shot though.

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